


The Bumble Bee and Flower Who Fell in Love

by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bumble Bee, Children's Literature, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:37:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles/pseuds/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Arthur is a hardworking bumble bee and Eames is a flamboyant flower. Arthur/Eames</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bumble Bee and Flower Who Fell in Love

**Author's Note:**

> **You can check out[here](http://onewhositswiththeturtles.tumblr.com/) to follow my Tumblr for info about me and story updates.**

Arthur was a hard working bumble bee. If you cared enough to watch, you would see that he was the most productive honey bee in the colony. Now you might point out that male honey bees don’t forage, and you’d be mostly right. But Arthur was the exception to a lot of rules.

 

Bumble bees were naturally social. Arthur preferred to work and sleep alone.

 

Male bees were only really around to fertilize the queen. Arthur had no interest in the queen; she was pushing and arrogant. So he foraged instead.

 

Male bees were not born with stingers. This was true for Arthur as well. The difference was that he didn’t allow this lack of defence to keep him from the world outside the hive.

 

He just had to be cleverer than most – which he was.

 

You might wonder why Arthur hadn’t been pushed out of the colony by now. After all, there was no room for deviation in a busy bee colony. But there were other drones to fertilize the queen, and Arthur was better at finding pollen-heavy flowers than all the female worker bees combined. As long as he didn’t cause trouble and didn’t mind being alone, they left him to his own devices.

 

Arthur was out foraging now, searching for a new patch of flowers. Whenever you found a new productive bed of flowers, it was your duty to direct the rest of the worker bees to it. It made sense; one bee couldn’t effectively make use of a whole group of flowers. But Arthur liked to work alone, so after he directed the others to his new find, he would continue on in search of more.

 

It was late spring, though Arthur the bee was unaware of the fact that this time had a name. All he knew was that new flowers were just beginning to blossom wherever seeds blew two seasons prior. He was on the hunt to discover these new flowers first.

 

#

 

Eames was a rather flamboyant flower. He couldn’t tell you what sort of flower he was since flowers weren’t privy to their formal names. But he thought he was quite beautiful all the same. His petals were long and thick but angular as they stretched out towards the light of the sun and curled back slightly towards his stem. Each petal was a vibrant gold that shone in the sunlight, with patterned splotches of orange and red. It was almost like he couldn’t choose his favourite colour so he just used them all.

 

Of course, Eames hadn’t actually had a choice in his colours; he had been like that since he first felt the sun’s heat. But he had always been quite pleased with showing his petals off as he grew taller and taller with time.

 

Eames was a little lonely though. You might think flowers can’t get lonely, or at least have no right to feel as such. But that didn’t keep Eames’s petals from drooping each day he failed to attract any attention. He would sigh his fragrance into the breeze, hoping it would catch someone’s interest, but it never did. When your purpose in life was to look beautiful and attract attention, being alone could be very disheartening.

 

Eames the flower was pretty sure he was lost because there were no other flowers like him around. He wasn’t technically alone though. He was on a high hill overlooking a lush valley of multicoloured flowers. But the only flowers that grew as high up as him were some Queen Anne’s Lace and some dandelions. Queen Anne’s Lace was – if you promised not to say he said so – a little pretentious. And the dandelions had so many cousins they couldn’t understand his loneliness.

 

#

 

It was a rather windy day, the currents buffering Arthur this way and that cruelly. On days like this, many of the worker bees stayed closer to the hive to forage there, avoiding exhaustion. Not Arthur though. He had something to prove, and he liked challenges.

 

Arthur had discovered more flowers in his first two weeks of life than most bees found in their whole life. It was because he was willing to go farther than the rest, because he didn’t have a very welcoming hive to return to. Each discovery just made him want to find more.

 

He knew enough from watching other bees to know he was already a quarter done his life – though you can debate how aware most bees are about such knowledge. As such, he was pushing himself further and further away from the hive.

 

A potent, enticing fragrance hit him in a burst then, carried on the wind. Arthur immediately focused on the scent and began tracing it back to the origin point, curious to know what had created such an appealing smell. He was flying mostly against the wind but he didn’t care; it meant no one else would pursue him.

 

He flew past the normal perimeter worker bees searched in without even noticing. It was logical to stay in the perimeter to collect more pollen and travel less, but Arthur was hooked now; he had to know what was creating that scent.

 

Arthur found the flower standing alone on the top of a hill, a few plain flowers and tall grass growing around it. But he knew this flower didn’t belong here. It was too beautiful and complex and attractive when compared to the perimeter’s usual flowers. Still, that didn’t break the spell Arthur was under as he flew up and landed precisely on a petal. 

 

As soon as he landed, the petals seemed to perk up. Even more drawn in now that he was closer, Arthur stepped further into the flower and brushed himself tentatively against one of the anthers heavy with pollen. He tasted a bit curiously and knew this would make the very best honey; the pollen tasted as divine as the flower’s fragrance.

 

He burrowed himself deeper into the flower, noticing that the inner petals were coated with extra pollen. Arthur realized he must be the first bee to find this flower, and that pleased him greatly. He made sure his whole body was covered in pollen before drinking as much nectar as he could and flying back to the hive.

 

#

 

When Eames felt a weight on his petal heavier than a droplet of rain, he perked up immediately. He stretched out his petals as best he could, trying to show his beauty off and hold the creature’s attention. He also sent out another burst of fragrance, hoping to draw the creature in further.

 

Eames wasn’t entirely sure what was on him – he had never seen one before – but he didn’t mind. It felt lovely to have a weight on his petals and brushing against his anthers. Eames didn’t even mind that the creature was taking his pollen, just basking in the attention. It was even more enjoyable when the creature relieved him of his excess pollen and nectar. Eames felt lighter as his petals danced in the breeze.

 

All too soon though, the creature crawled back up to the edge of his petal and took off. Immediately his petals drooped again, sad that he had only held the creature’s attention for a short time. With a final flicker of determination, Eames released more fragrance, hoping it would follow the creature and make him return soon.

 

#

 

When you found new flowers, it was customary to direct the rest of the colony to the new food source. However, Arthur didn’t tell the hive about his new flower. When he arrived back at the hive covered in pollen and bloated with nectar, he instead directed the worker bees to a patch of flowers he had found earlier that day.

 

He didn’t want to share his new flower.

 

Arthur deposited his pollen and nectar quickly, a good portion of the hive gone to use his new discovered patch of flowers. He was planning to head out to a nearby bed of flowers, but instead found himself heading past the perimeter again. It wasn’t productive at all, but it seemed a waste to leave that pollen untouched. Besides, the fragrance still clung to his body and dulled his senses to all else.

 

When he made it back, he saw that the petals were drooping again. He circled the area for a minute, seeing that the flower was one of a kind. Then he landed and the petals stretched out again. It was very unusual.

 

“Hello! You’re back!” The flower exclaimed excitedly, startling Arthur enough that he took off and hovered a few feet away.

 

We should probably pause here for a moment because I know what you’re thinking: flowers and bees can’t talk! I’m not going to argue otherwise because I’ve never had one talk to me either. But who are we to know for sure? Have you ever tried talking to one? And if you have, did you ever consider that the flower or bee in question might be having a bad day with no interest in talking? Either way, for the sake of this story, let’s give them the benefit of the doubt.

 

“Please don’t leave!” Eames the flower added hurriedly, “I missed you.”

 

“Why?” Arthur asked cautiously, hovering closer.

 

“Because I’m lonely.”

 

“You don’t look very lonely,” Arthur said, circling around some nearby flowers to make his point.

 

“They don’t understand me,” Eames whined. Arthur couldn’t believe how dramatic this flower was. “I call myself Eames, by the way.”

 

“Arthur,” the bee offered, finally landing softly on one of the petals quivering in the wind.

 

“I see. And what are you, Arthur?” the flower asked curiously.

 

Arthur was as surprised as a bumble bee could be. “I’m a bumble bee. Don’t you know that? All flowers know about bumble bees.” The nearby Queen Anne’s Lace and dandelions gave hums of agreement.

 

“Why is that?” Eames asked, unaware.

 

“Because we fly to all flowers collecting pollen and nectar. It’s our food and it helps you spread your seed to reproduce healthy offspring,” Arthur explained matter-of-factly, nuzzling up to the anthers for more pollen while he spoke.

 

“Shouldn’t you have asked me on a date first?” Eames suggested playfully.

 

“None of the other flowers seemed to mind,” Arthur returned calmly.

 

“You mean...” the petals began to sag under Arthur’s weight again. “You visit other flowers besides me?”

 

“Yes,” Arthur responded. The bee didn’t understand why the flower had become so melancholy; he had explained the logic. He shifted around uncomfortable when the flower continued to droop. “It’s not like I’m the only bee who visits you.”

 

“You _are_ the only bee who visits me!” Eames sighed.

 

“Well if I wasn’t, it’s not like you would be exclusive to me,” Arthur reasoned, trying to make the flower see logic. It was usually a difficult task; flowers were generally busy with appearance and gossip and play.

 

“Yes I would!” Eames argued, his stigma smacking Arthur lightly. “I would close my petals to all but you.”

 

Arthur gave a buzz of annoyance. “This is a waste of time,” he informed the flower before taking some nectar. He was angry when he realized he had been seated on the same flower for five whole minutes – very unproductive.

 

“You’re leaving?” Eames asked sadly as Arthur became airborne. “Will you come back to visit me?”

 

“No,” Arthur insisted as he flew higher, wings catching on the air currents; it would be an easy flight back.

 

“Good, I don’t want you to come back anyway!” he heard muttered in the distance as the wind pulled him away. He saw the flower’s petals began to close before it fell out of sight.

 

#

 

Eames wished Arthur had never come. He had been lonely and a little sad before. But now that he had experienced some company and lost it again, he felt even worse. He barely opened his petals in the morning when the sun hit them, only keeping them open enough for his fragrance to get picked up on the wind. The other flowers, as usual, didn’t understand.

 

It had felt lovely to have some weight on his petals as the bee nuzzled close. It had also been quite enjoyable to have someone new to talk with even if he wasn’t very pleased with the conversation’s topic.

 

Eames continued to hope that Arthur would return, releasing his fragrance into the air. But for three whole cycles of the sun, Eames was alone. He began to feel sick between his build up of pollen and his lack of sun as he kept his petals mainly closed.

 

He had mostly given up when the sun touched him for the fourth time since Arthur’s departure. But then a voice startled him out of his troubled thoughts. “Eames?” The voice came from nearby and Eames realized he had not left a place for Arthur to land.

 

“You came back,” Eames said happily as he spread his petals. A moment later he felt Arthur’s tiny weight on him.

 

“I tried to stay away,” Arthur admitted, “But I could still smell you. I couldn’t stay away.” As he said this, the bee brushed against Eames’s now-heavy anthers.

 

“I am very glad,” the flower confessed. “I was terribly lonely.” Even though the sun had fallen behind some clouds, Eames still stretched his petals further. Basking in Arthur’s attention.

 

Arthur was silent as he took more nectar. Then he spoke, sounding a little regretful. “If you are that lonely I can bring other bees to visit you.” He didn’t’ sound very impressed with the idea.

 

“You know other bees?” Eames asked, having only met one bee himself, who was currently settled on him.

 

“I live with many,” Arthur stated, moving back towards the edge of the petal to take off.

 

Eames the flower thought about this for a moment. “No,” he eventually decided, “I just want you to keep visiting me. I don’t want other bees.”

 

“Okay.” Arthur sounded pleased as he took off into the air.

 

#

 

No matter how much he tried to ignore Eames’s fragrance, even after burying himself in countless other flowers, Arthur still found himself drawn to Eames. He managed to stay away for three cycles of the sun before finally giving in. And after Eames said he only wanted Arthur to visit him, Arthur was happy enough to oblige.

 

He shouldn’t have gone back the second time that day though. First, his productivity was dropping; the hive wasn’t likely to keep him if he wasn’t helpful. Second, even as he flew from the hive towards his flower, he could feel rain and electricity in the air. A storm was coming but still he flew on.

 

“I like you,” Eames informed him as he landed.

 

“You don’t know me,” Arthur retaliated, pausing on the petals. He began to clean his legs and body before taking more pollen, trying to get the electricity out of his hair.

 

“Then tell me about you,” the flower countered.

 

Arthur didn’t know why he kept coming back here. “What do you want to know?”

 

The flower seemed to sway in thought. “What’s it like living with such a large family?”

 

The bee stilled in his cleaning. He thought about lying but decided there was no point. “Lonely.”

 

“Why?”

 

“No one likes that I do things differently,” he explained. “I’m only allowed to stay with the colony because I’m good at foraging. Which is why I have to visit other flowers,” he added, wanting Eames to understand. He didn’t know if a flower could understand what it was like having to work to stay alive, but he wanted to try. Arthur couldn’t speak about this with other bees.

 

Eames’s petals twitched in agitation at the mention of other flowers, but then he calmed. “What do you do differently that’s so wrong?”

 

“I forage instead of fertilizing the queen,” Arthur said bitterly. He began rubbing himself against the flower’s nearest anther, calming as pollen stuck to him. 

 

“Is the queen pretty?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Does she smell good?”

 

“Not really,” he said again.

 

“Am I pretty?” Eames pressed.

 

Arthur paused in his movements again. “Yes, I suppose.”

 

“And do I smell good?”

 

“Yes,” Arthur buzzed, shuffling around shyly.

 

“Then you should stay with me!” Eames proclaimed, as if it was that simple.

 

“I’d starve without the hive,” Arthur said, somewhat disappointed by this. But before either of them could say another word on the subject, the sky opened up and rain began to fall. A large raindrop was rude enough to land directly on Arthur, nearly washing him away to the ground where any animal could eat him for a snack.

 

“Quick, hide in my petals!” Eames offered quickly, sounding scared. Arthur knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to the hive until the storm was over. His wings were wet and the wind was growing stronger. So with little choice he crawled as deep into the flower as he could manage, pressed between the base of the stigma and the petals.

 

He saw Eames seal his petals closed at the tips, blocking out any further rain. Arthur clung to Eames the way he knew the flower was clinging to the earth as they were buffered violently by the wind. He knew he should stay awake with Eames, but for the first time in his life he felt safe and wanted, curled up in Eames’s petals. Before he even realized, the howling wind had faded from his attention as he fell asleep.

 

#

 

Eames thought Arthur had died as the little bumble bee hidden away in his petals stopped moving. If flowers could cry – if they knew what crying was – Eames would cry. But all he could do was continue trying to keep Arthur’s body safe from the angry weather.

 

The storm lingered above him, snapping a few of his leaves painfully. One of the Queen Anne’s Lace got her neck broken, and even though they hadn’t really got along, Eames mourned her. The storm raged on for what seemed like forever, and Eames was worried his petals might get torn away, leaving Arthur’s body exposed to the elements.

 

Eames held on though. The wind finally died and the rain stopped falling. It wasn’t long after that before the sun snuck through the clouds and warmed the earth. Eames unfurled himself cautiously, still cradling the bee close. “Arthur?” he questioned sadly. What would he do without his new friend?

 

Arthur didn’t respond for a minute, but then Eames felt Arthur’s body vibrate against his petals as he began to stir. The bee remained where he was for another few minutes before awkwardly crawling up to Eames’s opened petals. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry,” Arthur mumbled.

 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Eames admitted, flattening his petals out more to give Arthur room to sprawl out.

 

“I am because of you,” Arthur offered softly as he lay down across Eames’s largest petal. He didn’t say thank you, but Eames knew he meant it.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

 

“Drying my wings in the sun,” the little bee stretched his wings out from his body in demonstration. “I can’t fly with them this wet.”

 

“You don’t need to fly. Just stay with me,” Eames offered again hopefully.

 

“I would, Eames,” Arthur fluttered his wings as he spoke, trying to dry them faster. “But I’m cold and hungry. I can’t live away from the hive.”

 

Eames was saddened by this, though he realized he’d rather share Arthur than lose him entirely. “You’ll still visit though, right?” he prodded.

 

“Yes,” Arthur agreed easily.

 

“Good.”

 

They stayed like that in silence for a while. Arthur stayed resting on his petal long after Eames figured he had dried off. But Eames wasn’t about to comment or complain. This time Eames said “goodbye, see you soon” and Arthur said “yes”.

 

#

 

Every day from then on – except on days with terrible weather – Arthur would visit Eames. He made sure to collect as much pollen as possible in the mornings and then bathe himself in Eames’s fragrance in the afternoons. He knew the other bees noticed his drop in productivity, but he was still helpful enough to keep around. And no one cared enough about him to trail him beyond the perimeter to see what was going on.

 

Every day Eames would have a new question for him, endlessly curious. Arthur would do his best to answer each question as he nuzzled Eames’s anthers and sunned himself on his favourite, colourful petal.

 

“Do you talk with other flowers?”

 

“None of them are as chatty as you, Eames,” Arthur said in mild exasperation.

 

“Have you ever seen another flower like me?”

 

“No, you’re unique,” Arthur answered somewhat affectionately.

 

“What’s it like to fly?”

 

Arthur tried to explain the method of flying first. But Eames seemed disappointed by the answer so Arthur talked about dancing on air currents and zipping around challenging obstacles. Eames was very excited to hear about that.

 

“What do you eat?” And then, after Arthur’s explanation: “What does honey taste like?”

 

Arthur had never met a more genuinely curious flower. But he liked to answer questions, and liked Eames being interested in him. Arthur also began asking his own questions, staying for longer periods of time on Eames’s petals. Even though they didn’t always know what to say, and didn’t always understand the other’s perspective, it was still very enjoyable to have a friend.

 

At the end of the day, Arthur would have to leave before dusk. Sometimes Eames would say “I like you” before Arthur took off. And as the days passed, Arthur began to say “I like you too”. Other times Eames would ask him to stay. Arthur never said no, but he always silently took flight before he could be convinced away from logic.

 

Unfortunately, as the days turned to weeks, both of them grew older. The wind was usually against him when he flew to visit Eames, and he found the journey increasingly tiring. He became less productive in the hive, trying to save energy to visit Eames. They began cutting down his share of food accordingly, which made him even weaker.

 

He knew Eames noticed, and the flower verbally worried over him occasionally. But Arthur told him not to worry and continued to visit. Eames never complained on the days Arthur just rested on his petals in the sun, talking minimally as he regenerated energy for the return flight. Arthur also had to take Eames’s offer to stay some nights when he hadn’t regained enough energy to fly back safely before dusk.

 

Arthur had to admit that it was kind of nice sleeping out there alone with Eames, even if the flower had issues being quiet. Eames’s petals cradled him close and kept him safe from the weather and animals.

 

#

 

Eames was getting old, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. Eames’s petals were curling on their own slightly and browning at the tips. His stem sagged slightly and he didn’t produce as much pollen as he used to. He was so grateful that Arthur didn’t leave him and his fading beauty.

 

In fact, Arthur began to spend more and more time with him. Eames knew this was because his work and flight wore him out, even if the bee wouldn’t say so. But it made Eames really happy that Arthur still came and talked with him, rather than resting back at his home. He worried, but he was too selfish to tell Arthur not to come.

 

One day though, when the air was still and the sun was dreadfully hot, Arthur arrived early in the morning. This was odd since the bumble bee had to work in the mornings to keep his place with his unfriendly family. Arthur landed on Eames’s petal without his usual grace and immediately crawled in further, searching for shade.

 

“Are you alright?” Eames asked nervously when Arthur curled up and didn’t say anything.

 

Arthur’s wings fluttered weakly against the inside of Eames’s petals. “This is the last time I’ll be visiting you, Eames.”

 

“Why?” his petals and stem sagged further sadly.

 

“Because I’m dying,” Arthur stated mournfully.

 

“Can’t you hold on a little longer?”

 

“I don’t really get a choice, Eames,” Arthur said with a hint of bitter humour tainting his sadness.

 

They were silent for a few minutes. “How long do you have left?” he questioned, dreading any answer.

 

“A day, probably,” Arthur said. “Two at the most. But I won’t have the energy to visit you tomorrow.”

 

“Will you stay with me then?” The sun felt painful on Eames’s petals. It felt like they were cracking and dying.

 

This time Arthur actually answered the question rather than silently leaving or giving in. “Yes,” he agreed softly. “I’ll stay with you.”

 

Arthur remained curled up in the shade Eames’s stigma created for the entire day. They spoke of different things or swayed in the breeze in a comfortable but melancholy silence. Arthur was probably growing hungry but didn’t leave Eames, remaining close.

 

Arthur crawled back out onto his favourite petal, movements slow and laboured, and they watched the sun set. The air was still warm, the breeze sighing around them before stilling. “I love you, Eames,” Arthur murmured out of nowhere.

 

“What does that mean?” Eames asked immediately. This felt important.

 

“A rose told me once...” Arthur’s words were slowing, and Eames tried to be patient. “She said love was when someone made you feel wanted and special and happy... You’re my best friend so I thought it suited.”

 

“I love you too, Arthur,” Eames promised, liking the meaning behind this new word. It was everything he felt for this little bumble bee.

 

After that, Arthur wandered back towards the flower’s centre. The bee bathed himself in Eames’s pollen and fragrance, and then snuggled up as close to Eames as he could manage. Eames closed his petals slowly, protecting Arthur, and remained silent. There were so many more things he wanted to say to Arthur; lifetimes more worth of things. But he didn’t know how much longer Arthur would last and he wanted their last words to be important.

 

It happened a few hours before the sun was due to arrive. Eames knew Arthur was gone when his tiny body stopped vibrating against him with tired buzzes. Eames continued to hold Arthur’s body close even when it grew stiff and cold.

 

He mourned his friend throughout the night. When the sun rose the next morning, Eames refused to open his petals to collect nutrients. It didn’t take long before his stem bowed over and his petals wilted. By the time his petals fell away from his body, allowing Arthur’s limp body to fall to the grass, Eames was already gone.

 

If Eames wasn’t a flower, anyone would agree that he died of a broken heart.

**Author's Note:**

> **You can check out[here](http://onewhositswiththeturtles.tumblr.com/) to follow my Tumblr for info about me and story updates.**


End file.
